Healing the Healers
by anonymouth
Summary: After Carter and Lucy are hurt, there's one person Abby Lockhart thinks needs comfort. Follows Weaver and Abby's relationship  or my interpretation of it!  building from series 6.
1. Chapter 1

**Healing the Healers**

Pairing: Kerry Weaver/Abby Lockhart

Spoilers: Well, if ya haven't seen any of ER, in the whole probably 10 years that series 6 aired (philistines, haha!), then...plot begins around episode Be Still My Heart and All in the Family.

Disclaimer: Not property of me, property of the rich guys!

**Author's Note: I started writing this waaay back about 5/6 years ago, when all I could call my own was a writing pad and pen! I rediscovered it in this tattered, battered old notebook about a year ago, and it's only now I'm getting around to resurrecting it and typing it up – bringing it into the modern world! I've always loved entertaining the thought of this pairing, and thought they could have taken the friendship so much further, so...here goes, not quite finished yet, but the intent and idea is there and very much alive! I hope y'all like, let me know!**

Chapter 1

I saw her walking down the hall towards the exit, apparently unaware of the people yelling her name. I couldn't blame her if she kept running – well, crutching – her way out of the building, out of Chicago. For some reason I felt compelled to follow her. No one else seemed to have noticed the haste with which she disappeared, or the lostness of her determined rush. Perhaps she wanted it that way, and in my naϊveness I rushed through some unspoken rule of the ER. But everyone deserved someone to show they care, right?

The cigarette was in my mouth before the doors had even opened before me. I couldn't see her when I first got outside, so I lit the cigarette and let the fresh air into my lungs, allowing it plenty of time to circulate my nicotine-starved body.

I heard her before I saw her; a retching noise to my right made me turn, and all I could see was a billowing lab coat and a mop of ginger hair disappearing into a bin. Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable with seeing her this vulnerable, this human, and I realised why no one else had followed her out. She was Kerry Weaver, invincible Superdoc, and no one wanted anything to shatter that illusion. Perhaps she didn't want them to.

She'd stopped retching and was standing up straighter. There was no way I could sneak back in, so I decided to face her head-on. As she turned around I smiled cautiously. I thought I saw her eyes flash: anger; tears; I don't know. But in that same moment I saw her mask slide coolly back into place.

"Are you ok?"

Even before she opened her mouth, I knew what her response would be. I stared after her for a minute, stubbed out my cigarette and followed her back inside. We still had jobs to do.

* * *

Perhaps I should have let it be after that, but I never learnt. Put your finger in the fire once and get burned, keep doing it until you don't. Or until you stop feeling. That basically summed up my relationships in life.

There were few people going to Doc Magoo's after our shift. No one really fancied going home; everyone needed to know, good or bad. I was going to join them. I had my coat on. I was wrapping myself up in a scarf, but as I turned around I saw her, sitting by the admit desk. She appeared to be concentrating on a chart, but the pen kept moving in circles. I unravelled my scarf and walked over to her. Dr. Chen looked at me as though I was committing some sort of heinous crime before she walked out. Perhaps I was. Life as an OB nurse was so much simpler.

I kept going nonetheless, sure only of my unsureness, predicting only unpredictability.

"Her Dr. Weaver." She barely gave me a glance. "I was wondering if you fancied catching some dinner, or a coffee. A bunch of us decided to wait over the road for news, if you fancy it?"

She looked at me then, but her intense eyes made me a little uncomfortable. I held them anyway, even as I squirmed.

"Actually I was planning on waiting here until we heard anything. But thanks."

I nodded and walked away. I'm sure she kept watching.

* * *

Over at Doc's, we settled into a sort of comfortable uneasiness, using idle chatter to cover the one thing that we were all thinking about. We got talking about Dr. Carter, and his days as a med student. We all laughed when Haleh recalled a story about one of Lucy's transgender cases. It was the laughter that did it, I think, because at that moment, Chuny walked in. She didn't even have to open her mouth; I don't think anyone wanted her to. It would have made it all the more real. It was Lucy. She was dead. Her internal wounds from the psychopath stabbing were too severe. Carter was critical but steady. Lucy was dead. No one could seem to find their voices. I found it surreal. All I could think about was Kerry. I made my excuses quickly. I didn't want to seem rude, but most were going their separate ways. Sometimes it's better to be alone by yourself than alone in the crowd. I ordered two tall lattes to go, and before I knew it, I was back inside the ER. She was still there, sitting in the same place. It wouldn't have surprised me if it was the same chart. I put the coffee down in front of her. The noise startled her and she met my eyes in confusion.

* * *

"I thought you could use this."

She put her pen down carefully and picked up the cardboard mug. She seemed to study it in depth. I braced myself for what was coming next; a big brush-off most likely.

"I prefer their coffee to the machine here."

I think my sigh of relief was audible, because she smiled softly. She was heartbreaking.

"Thanks, Abby."

I sat down next to her then. Perhaps I should have left. There were a lot of 'perhapses' in my life, but the way I see it, they're better than 'what ifs'.

She didn't seem to mind, and the silence was comfortable.

"She asked me to be her mentor. When I got promoted, I told her I couldn't."

I didn't know what, if anything, she wanted me to say to this. Maybe she was talking to herself more than me.

"You feel guilty."

She could take it as a question or a statement.

"It won't achieve anything. But yes, I do. If I knew-"

"If you knew what was going to happen to her, you'd have had security onto this guy after his initial workup, therefore stopping the whole thing. You still wouldn't be mentoring her."

Her head snapped up from staring at the chart to fix me with an ice-cold stare. I froze, appropriately enough. Bluntness had always been my problem – tact never my strong point. But what was the point in wallowing in self-pity? Her guilt wasn't logical, if guilt can ever be logical. She needed tor realise, before she wallowed too much and couldn't find her way back. Easy enough to see in other people.

"Think about it, Dr. Weaver."

I turned to walk away. I knew that I'd blown it, whatever _it _was. I thought sure I had, until I heard her voice.

"I know you're right."

I stopped walking, but I didn't dare turn around. Suddenly I felt her behind me, and I stopped breathing.

"I think I could do with something stronger." She brushed past me, letting me catch a hint of her scent. I hadn't been close enough to smell anything other than the familiar artificialness of the hospital. It caught me off guard, and I stood there dumbfounded, until she turned around.

"That's if the offer's still on, of course."It was surreal; I could see myself following her as if I was watching it unfold from a distance. _Perhaps you shouldn't _this surrealness was saying. But I figured if it turned out that perhaps I shouldn't have, it would still be better than looking back and thinking perhaps I should have.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

We ended up in a small, cosy bar a few blocks away. I don't know how; I was following her, but I think, perhaps that she was following me, too. We sat in a small booth, a candle between us and our knees nearly touching under the table. I began to feel that cramped rather than cosy was the appropriate word. Now that we were actually out of the hospital, I didn't really know what I wanted to say. Even though I hadn't been working alongside her for that long, I felt this empathy, this longing to be close to her; I had this stupid fantasy where we'd meet and it would be as if we'd known each other forever. We'd slip into this easy pattern and everything would just come naturally. I was beginning to realise how unnatural this actually was.

I went to the bar to get us drinks. I ordered her a scotch, but deliberated when it came to mine. Eventually, the bartender placed a bottle of beer in front of me and I gave her the money. I took a deep breath before I picked up my bottle with a shaky hand. I wouldn't say I had a bad problem with alcohol, even though I'd been to a few meetings. I just liked a drink to relax, and once I started, I found it hard to recognise my cut-off point. When I turned to weave my way back to our table, I found Kerry watching me. She had the most intense gaze I'd ever had directed at me. The gaze was raw; unnerving. She looked at people with her detached, superior Doctor look, and that was it. No emotion; no compassion. Now I had finally penetrated that layer, I half wished I was somewhere else.

I shuffled into my seat and kept on shuffling awkwardly when she didn't avert her eyes. I held her stare, though. It was the least I could do; I'd dragged her out of her comfort zone, her natural environment; she had put herself out there; I couldn't exactly pull off a retreat now. I didn't know whether I really wanted to, deep down. She put her hand around my beer and gently pulled it away.

"You don't want that." It was more of a statement than a question, but not the type to make me yank it back and drink it anyway. I ducked my head a little; embarrassed; ashamed.

"You don't want to be here, either."

I snapped my head back up.

"Yes I do. I do, it's just..."

"Now that you're here, you don't know exactly why you wanted to be."

She was wrong. I knew why I wanted to be, it was just if I told her, I'd never set foot in Chicago again.

"Lucy was like that." She carried on regardless of whether I had spoken or not. "She always wanted to do the best, the right thing. Always trying to make a situation right in that moment, not thinking of the consequences or how she'd deal with the aftermath." Kerry swirled her drink thoughtfully. "She'd always jump straight in, let her mouth run away with her, make promises and decisions that she couldn't follow through just because she wanted to help people, to make them feel better in that moment, never mind about the next. She had this energy, this boundless energy making her whirlwind about the place."

She lifted her gaze to look at me and again penetrated me with her gaze.

"You were subtler than that, but now that we're here, and you've actually got me out of the hospital, like Lucy, you didn't think about this moment; the next moment. You wanted to make me feel better, perhaps, but you don't know what to say next."

I ducked away from her gaze again.

"You're nearly right, I suppose. Everyone was rushing around the ER, then once Dr. Carter and Lucy had gone to the OR, everyone just seemed to drift towards each other; they sort of comforted each other, even without words." I suddenly got a bit nervous; I mean, I'd seen the woman hurl; I'd foisted coffee upon her, but up to this point, we hadn't actually talked much. At least not enough for me to say anything out of line. Sure, I'd crossed over some unspoken ER rule by actually trying to comfort the chief, but until now, I hadn't actually crossed over any of her lines.

_Sod it. _"You didn't seem to be a part of that, and I was concerned, intrigued. I knew you cared, but it was like you were working so hard to detach yourself from everyone else. I just wanted to know why. I could have asked anyone else, I suppose, but their guess would have been as good as mine. Plus I knew you must be hurting as much as everyone else. I just wanted someone to be there for you, too."

At the look on her face, I tried to subtly back away as much as possible.

"I'm sorry if that assumption was wrong. If I've offended you by opening my big mouth."

We were silent a long time after that.

"Perhaps you're right." The words were barely mumbled, and when my head shot up she was avoiding my eyes.

"Sorry?"

Perhaps the words hadn't been meant for me. She took a sip of her drink and seemed to gain strength from it.

"I do care. I do." She let this statement sink in. Glanced nervously at me, waiting, perhaps, for some cutting comment. I was careful to stay blank.

"But from the start I was different. I didn't seem to fit in. Everyone had their roles, and they accepted them. No one wanted to move up the ladder. Or perhaps they wanted to, at some point, but couldn't; didn't see any point. I saw a point. I wanted to be better, for myself, and to show others that I could, despite being a woman; a disabled woman. I wanted to move up, to change things, to influence people. People in the ER didn't accept that. I threatened their perfectly developed habits, so I was an outcast; a ball-buster. And it hurt. The comments I overheard behind my back. The sniggers; the opportunities they took, still take, to question me, to overrule me. So I played up to being a ball-buster. The Ice Queen. Don't let anyone in, so I can't get hurt, right? Sure I care. It's just not worth the hassle, the hurt of showing it."

I took a while to process this. I felt so much compassion for this woman. How could the ER staff be so careful with their patients emotions, yet blatantly ignore the feelings of one woman who cared for theirs?

"Dr. Weaver I..." I what? I'm sorry? I couldn't apologise for other people. I could ring their necks, but I wasn't responsible for other people, regardless of how much I wished otherwise.  
"It's ok, Abby. I'm used to it by now."  
"I wish I could make it better."  
When she looked up at me in surprise, I held her gaze, even as I knew I was turning scarlet. She needed to know that I meant it; that I wasn't just throwing out meaningless comments, even as I debated the sanity of this.  
"So did I."

God, she really was heartbreaking. I went to reach out for her hand but I felt her eyes on me and thought better of it. Perhaps just one line at a time.

We didn't say much all night, but after a while the silence wasn't uncomfortable. On some level it was better than mundane chatter. Every time I got up to go to the toilet it seemed that the crowd got thinner. The strange thing is I didn't care. We both jumped when the barmaid pointedly came to the table to remove our glasses; both got mildly annoyed at the interruption; both blushed profusely when we realised they were waiting for us to leave to close up.

* * *

It was freezing outside. I noticed her shivering and to my surprise, swaying. That was weird – I hadn't noticed at all how much she had drunk when usually I was very aware of it in others. We stood shuffling for a while, playing with nervous smiles. I wanted to put my arm around her shoulder and fetch her home with me, keep her safe. She wouldn't stand for that.  
"I'll get us a cab. We're going the same way." I questioned this crazy statement; I lived in a completely different direction to her, but here I was, lying to her, and probably costing myself a fortune in cab fare. It appeared that she had a strange talent for telepathy, because for the second time tonight she looked straight through my eyes, hers adorably glazed.  
"I'll be fine getting home by myself."

I didn't know what to say to this. After everything I'd managed to break through tonight, I didn't want to ruin it by letting her think that I thought she was incapable.

"I won't be."

She smiled a small smile that hinted at a little dimple. I wondered if she knew what I really meant. I don't think I even knew what I really meant. Of course I'd be fine getting home alone. I'd been paralytic and made it home before now, but I wanted, needed to make sure she was safe. As safe as I could make her, anyway.

* * *

Outside her house she insisted on paying the whole fare. I had to lie about where I was going to leave her with some money. She seemed reluctant to get out of the cab.  
"So do you have a shift tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm in at nine."

I caught the cab driver staring impatiently at us.

"We should get some sleep, it's nearly two."

She nodded and started to get out. All of a sudden I felt colder.

"Dr. Weaver I..." God, I had such a way with words. I sat back in my seat, my initial rush to fall over my words gone. "Thanks."

She stood still for a moment and held the door open whilst the driver revved his engine. She didn't turn around.

"Abby...call me Kerry."

I didn't get a chance to reply; no sooner had she shut the door than I was 3 blocks away.

_Call me Kerry..._

_**A/N: Hope you like so far, shall update as quickly as I can type, m'kaii? xx**_


	3. Chapter 3

I knew it was her, even before I turned around. I'd already heard her, crutching towards me. Wherever I'd been, whatever I'd been doing today, I'd been aware of that thudding. It sounded hesitant as it approached now. I turned around and appeared surprised to see her – how do you explain to someone that you knew they were behind you because you'd been listening to their movements all day. Well, I suppose you could, if you wanted to sound like a stalker.

It flashed into my mind, like a lightning strike; suddenly there; suddenly gone.  
_Call me Kerry._

"Hey, Dr. Weaver. I was just coming to look for you. I need you to sign off on this chart."

She took it off me and our hands inadvertently touched. I gave a small gasp and diverted my eyes. Perhaps she hadn't heard it. I only looked at her when she prodded me in the arm with the chart.

"Sorry Dr. Weaver."

I took it off her and noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. She turned to walk away.

"Call me Kerry, Abby."

I smiled to myself. When I woke up this morning I'd convinced myself that it'd all been a dream. It used to be easy to do that the morning after; if you couldn't see him or her, then it hadn't really happened; if the Scotch bottle was hidden from sight then I hadn't really emptied it. But it had taken some effort to convince myself that last night with Kerry hadn't really happened, and now here she was, making it real again. She remembered, therefore I had no choice but to remember. Actually, I didn't want any other option.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a kind of blur; a hazy, mellow one. I was aware of that reassuring thud all day. When my shift ended, I found myself hanging around the lounge, hoping she'd turn up, yet some part of me praying she wouldn't. I made myself some coffee, yet debated the sense of it seeing as I was already twitching. As I was pouring it down the sink the door thudded open.

I've never had so many thoughts enter my head at any one time: oh, God, I hope it's her; if it is, why won't she go away; please please go away; please stay; God, stop blushing...blushing? Get a grip!

"Hey Dr. Weaver." I knew I blushed profusely as I turned around. She looked tired. No, not tired; worn, as if she'd stretched and re-shaped herself so many times that she didn't quite fit herself anymore. She looked grey.

"Hey Abby." She seemed nervous, like she didn't know how to act or which mask to wear. It was like she was only used to showing her ball-busting Doc face, and she wanted me to see more but wasn't sure how to go about it. Perhaps I'd forced it on her, and that's what she was uncomfortable with. I quickly pushed that from my mind before it ate away at the tentative beginnings of the friendship I'd tried to form.

"How're you feeling today?" stupid question, and no doubt I would get the stupid answer.

"Fine." She'd hesitated and looked as if she wanted to say more, but she stopped. She held my gaze for a second too long before she shuffled away. I wanted to reassure her, but my way with words was atrocious and we'd both be awkward with physicalities. I bit the bullet, and on my way out the door, I lightly touched her arm. If you're in, you may as well give it your all.

"If you ever need anything – a talk, a drink, a shoulder to yell at..." I caught her eye then and saw the totally misguided mistrust and suspiciousness. I put all the honesty I could into my eyes. "I mean it."

I hoped she didn't notice how hesitantly I let go of her arm, or how awkwardly I walked out of the lounge. I'm sure I felt her eyes on me as I left.

* * *

Outside, I let myself collapse against the wall, shaking so much that I only lit my cigarette on the fifth attempt. I calmed down a bit as the nicotine coursed, but I could still hear my heart racing and pounding. I don't know how long I stayed there listening to it. A hundred people must have passed but I didn't see or hear them. I don't even know what I was thinking. I was trying to think about nothing, yet seeing every thought pass through my mind. Gradually, I became aware of a thudding outside of myself. I looked around and realised it was dark and that the clouds billowing on front of me was my breath and not smoke from the cigarette, which had burnt out without me realising.

"Abby?"

I jumped visibly, my heart pounding again.

"God, Kerry, you scared me!" I blushed profusely again. Her name had slipped off my tongue so easily that even though I thought I was thinking of nothing, it turns out that she was my nothing.

"Sorry." She leaned against the wall next to me. I could swear I could feel the nerves jumping off her.

"I thought you'd have gone home by now." She ventured eventually.

What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

"I don't quite fancy it yet." Well, it wasn't a whole lie.

"No, me neither."

I turned to look at her, and it was as if I'd caught her stealing. She gasped slightly, blushed profusely and her eyes ran away.

"I suppose I'd better get going anyway. Have a good night Abby." She went to rush off but I grabbed her arm. God knows why; I didn't want to take her to my place and I could scarcely afford a night on the town. She turned and only after hesitating did she catch my eye.

"Kerry I..." Master of elocution. "I'm sorry. Go home, I don't mean to intrude. I just don't fancy being alone right now so I was wondering if maybe-" Maybe what? It wasn't strictly true, anyway. I loved being alone, but recently it left me feeling unsettled like I was missing something that even alcohol couldn't compensate for. "You know what? Forget it. You've probably got loads to do. I'll see you tomorrow."

I let go of her arm, realising as I did so that it felt like the most natural unnatural things in the world.

She started to turn to walk away, heartbreakingly slowly. I fumbled for my cigarettes as she stopped and half-turned back.

"I've got coffee, if you fancy it. I mean I haven't got anything planned for tonight, so if you really don't fancy being alone perhaps you could join me?"

I'd never noticed before how small and feminine her voice sounded when she was nervous, when she wasn't trying to be the formidable ER Doctor Weaver. I pushed my cigarettes back into my pocket, trying to breathe deeply without her noticing. Was she blushing again? Well, it made a change from me.

"I'd like that." I think I smiled at her. Her cheeks changed from a bright pink to a dark red, clashing adorably with her hair.

* * *

In the car on the way to Kerry's, I began to half-heartedly think of a way to backtrack. Asking her out for a drink was one thing. Back to her house was a whole different ball game. In a bar, it was easy to walk away; make some excuse. There was always someone else around to distract the conversation. Someone else's house was a hell of a lot more private. The security of being able to defer to other people gone.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything; any excuse to stop the car, to get out. To feel numb again. But then I saw her face; that steely determination of Dr. Weaver, still there, yet distorted in unsureness. If _I _doubted my sanity, she was probably dying sly. I remembered the looks of mistrust that had been directed at me over the last couple of days. I wanted to show her that I had no ulterior motive; I wanted to be her friend, to be there for her. I'd made her go out on this limb, how could I push her away now?

I closed my mouth again and she spun her head to glance at me. I could have sworn that the car slowed down, as if she could read my thoughts. I could almost feel the look of resignation bearing down on me, the distance she would try to put between us like with everyone else. I settled back in my seat, barely resisting the urge to reach out for her cheek.

"Nice car." My eloquence really did astound me.

* * *

Her house was...nice. Like her car was nice. Like a showroom in Ikea was nice. It wasn't homely, or lived-in. There were no photos or little trinkets, nothing personal. It was just comfortable and practical.

She told me to sit and asked me what I wanted to drink. She had her hand on a tumbler and I think she saw me hesitate because she put the bottle back in the cabinet and tucked the glass away. I wanted to rip it out of her hand and pour myself a half pint, but then I didn't particularly want to be drunk in front of this woman. I didn't want her to see that part of me, even though a part of me wanted her to know me inside out. I pushed that part aside, wondering when a fledgling friendship had ever involved that.

She fixed us both coffees with a gorgeous hazelnut cinnamon-y smell and sat down in the chair. The furniture was arranged around an open fire, a green leather couch which I sat on was directly opposite it, and the chair which she occupied next to the sofa. There was a small oak table between us, and as we both reached down to lift our mugs, our fingers brushed. She pulled away, a slight gasp escaping from her. She was holding her hand close to her, as if I'd burnt her. I put my coffee down slowly, wondering if I should be watching the tears welling up in her eyes.

_God, Abby, you've seen the woman hurl_.

I reached out for her hands and kept my eyes on hers even though hers were trained on the fireplace. I gave her plenty of time to pull away. Perhaps I was giving it to myself. But I'd never known when to think first, act later.

Her hands were tiny. Fragile. Cold. I wrapped them in mine, noting how pale she was against me. They started to find their way to my mouth. I didn't know why. All of a sudden, it seemed, my lips were brushing her knuckles. It seemed to jerk her out of herself. She jerked her hands away but lifted her eyes to mine. I don't know what she saw, but the tears that had been lurking behind her eyes started to freefall.

We both looked down at her hands, outstretched, like they didn't belong. Her tears were falling onto them, pooling, dripping. Washing.

"They didn't save her. I didn't save her." So small; quiet; human.

"Couldn't, Kerry, not didn't. There was no choice involved. You did everything you could. So did everyone else. You're not God, Kerry."

"But I'm the next best thing!" she shouted. It made the hairs stand up all over my body. "I am the next best thing." Whispered.

I got on my knees in front of her, lifted one of her palms to my lips.

"If I can't do it, what's the point?"

I kissed her palm and closed her fingers around it.

"Kerry, you are one of the best doctors around. You've saved so many people that others have practically given up on. You weren't the only doctor that tried to save Lucy and you're not the only doctor to have ever felt like this. You're not feeling like a doctor Kerry; you're feeling like a person who's lost someone they care about."

I put my hands over her soaking cheeks, made her look at me. "You're a brilliant doctor, Kerry. Don't disbelieve that because you've let yourself grieve."

She kept her eyes on me. They were penetrating, like she could read my every thought. Her hands were still looking lost. I laced my fingers with hers and pulled us both to our feet.

"Who heals the healers?" I murmured softly, smiled gently at her. She started to cry in earnest then. I felt the sobs she was trying to conceal through her fingers. I let go of one of her hands and pulled her towards me. Whenever our paths had crossed, I'd always seen her as tall, indestructible; hard. She was the ER giant. I guess I had just gone along with everyone else's vision. There she was, in my arms, holding onto me, and she was tiny.

I kissed the top of her head. Her hair was fluffy, so soft that it almost felt like kissing air. And then all of a sudden, so sudden though it seemed to take forever, she was kissing me. I'd never felt such a rush of...everything when I felt her lips. It seemed so familiar, yet so undiscovered that I thought I could spend the rest of my life kissing her.

I don't know how long we stood there, lips touching. It felt like half my life had passed and I'd have to spend the other half catching up. It was probably only seconds until she pulled away. With past boyfriends, I'd wished hours had passed but it had only been seconds. I'd tolerated their lips touching mine. I'd been so wasted on the odd occasion that I slept with women that I couldn't even bring myself to care how much time passed. I knew, without any doubt, that spending an hour with Kerry would make me wish that only seconds had passed.

"It's getting late." She said, as if she'd read my mind. I held back a sigh. Tomorrow was another day; a different Kerry. I'd probably never be like this with her again.

"I'd better go, let you get some rest."

I went to let go of her hand, only just realising that I was still holding it. She wound her fingers tighter around mine. I moved back towards her and waited. I didn't want to push, speak, or move just in case I broke the spell. And then she was pulling me away from the living room; away from reality; away from time.


	4. Chapter 4

The bedroom was warm and cosy, yet I was covered in goose bumps. I looked at Kerry, concentrating on undoing my shirt. Her hands were shaking, but for the first time since the stabbing, she looked sure of herself. Her eyes were on fire, no longer blue in the streetlight shining in through the open window. They were almost black. I stopped her hands in mine needing to know...needing to know that she was really here. Really here with me.

"Kerry..." she looked straight into my soul then, and there wasn't a trace of shock or confusion or any of the things I'd been expecting on her face.

"You're here." I whispered. "You really know it's me."

She cupped my cheek, and I was amazed to find it was wet.

"Abby," I liked the way she breathed my name. "Abby, I don't want to be anywhere else. You are so beautiful." And then she kissed me. No tongues, no fumbling, just her lips on mine for an eternity. When we pulled away, it was like a dam bursting: I was on her bed, her on top of me; undressing; kissing; her skin on mine, so soft it was beyond comparison. It was like a dance with her leading, her hands everywhere. The hands that she was so sure wouldn't work anymore. I held one of her wrists, fetched it up to my mouth and kissed every digit until she was squirming. She watched me all the while. I held her gaze as I slipped the last finger out of my mouth, and gently led her hand down to slide easily between my legs. I was soaked. She gasped and arched into me, the increase in pressure making me thrust up into her, our bodies grinding together. I kept hold of her wrist and pushed her further inside me, her fingers driving me crazy.

"See Kerry?" I gasped. "Your hands...God...you fit."

* * *

I remembered that there was a window open, and that was what caused the shiver that woke me up. For a few moments I was bewildered.

_Fuck, Abby, where the hell are you now? How the hell much did you drink again? _

It was a well rehearsed scene, although this time missing the fuzziness that usually clouded my mind the morning after. I looked around, took in the crumpled sheets, felt the soreness in all my muscles. I sank back down into the bed, smiling to myself. _Kerry. _Kerry's hands; Kerry's mouth; Kerry's body. I'd never felt anything so...intensely erotic. She was so sensual; it was hard to believe that she was the same person as the ER doc.

_Kerry..._

I pulled the sheets around myself and sat up. My clothes were folded in a neat pile on a chair by the window. She was nowhere to be heard. I sighed deeply, still smelling her on the damp sheets.

With a rising feeling of dread, I got up and dressed slowly, a part of me wanting to stay, wanting to wait. But I couldn't hang around for a big rejection.

I reached the front door, tortured myself with one last look behind. It could be as if the night had never happened. I had made the bed and left the window open. When she got home, she could convince herself it was all a big nightmare if that's what she wanted.

I had to be at work in an hour. I knew she'd be there, hiding. I wanted to hide. The nearest bar, bottom of a bottle. I knew if I started, no one would ever find me.


	5. Chapter 5

Standing outside the hospital, I tried to slip on a mask. Hide behind that. But God, it hurt. I knew that last night wasn't meant to be forever. It had felt like I was drunk – one of those happy drunken dreams that you wanted to keep living in. In a way, I suppose we were drunk. Removed from reality. I hadn't expected a declaration of love – hell, I hardly knew where the night had come from myself – but just something, _anything_ to show that I wasn't the only one that wanted to remember. But if she wanted to forget, then I knew I would have to go along with it. I supposed it would be easy enough eventually. Most of my life had been spent trying to forget.

Walking in was somewhat of a relief. Normality. Same people; different patients; same complaints. She was nowhere to be seen. Relief? Anger? Disappointment? Hurt. I'd been in a few relationships – a few destructive ones, never really wanted to be there – but at the time it seemed better than nothing. When they finished, I felt nothing, and that was after months. How could I feel this way about this woman who I barely knew after one night of sex?

By the end of the day, things had gotten so hectic that I'd practically forgotten all about Kerry weaver, until I heard that familiar crutching noise. I was in the lounge – hiding. Maybe hoping. I could feel her standing behind me, could almost feel the nerves jumping off her. I took forever to make my coffee, and turned round slowly.

"Oh, hi Dr. Weaver. Didn't hear you come in." I knew my voice sounded too cheery, bordering on hostile. She knew, too.

"Abby..." she looked gorgeous, though tired. She stared at me through her lashes. She was blushing, not quite meeting my eyes. I did love the way she said my name.

"Then again, I didn't hear you leave, either. Master of stealth, eh? Nice to see you remember my name, though. Always a bonus."

I heard her intake of breath. It satisfied me at the same time that I repulsed myself. I wanted to hurt her, make her feel like I did, even though I still couldn't work out how I felt. I couldn't read the look on her face for a split second, and I realised with a lurch of my stomach that I didn't really know the woman at all. And now we probably wouldn't even have a chance at building a friendship that seemed such a close possibility early yesterday. Her ER mask slipped firmly back into place.

"Abby, I'm sorry I had to rush off. I had lots to do this morning." She held my eyes for a long moment. It seemed as though both of us were searching, though I was at a loss to explain for what.

"I had a great night, Kerry. I'm sorry if you didn't; if you felt..." I trailed off, not wanting to acknowledge her regret. Her face didn't give an inch, but her eyes held fireworks.

"Abby...what happened last night can't happen again. It was a one-off a..."

"Mistake?" I filled in for her, glaring. She looked away.

"Don't worry, Dr. Weaver. It won't happen again."

She stepped closer. I half-heartedly stepped away, wanting to just take her in my arms.

"Abby..." that small, tiny voice that was so private. "You're a med student here, Abby. I..."

The doors burst open and she jumped away from me like a firecracker. Chuny looked at us both a little strangely but shrugged her shoulders.

"Hey Abby, we're all going out tonight. Hit a few bars, whatever, just to wind down after...everything. Fancy it? You too, Dr. Weaver, everyone is coming." Then she was gone.

Kerry went over to the coffee machine and I turned to leave.

"I like it when you call me Kerry." She said it so quietly that I couldn't quite believe I'd heard it. I couldn't believe she'd said it anyway. One minute she was telling me that last night was a big mistake, and then she was telling me to call her Kerry! I shook my head and half-smiled. I knew she was looking at me. I avoided her eyes.

"You need to figure yourself out, Dr. Weaver."

* * *

I decided to join everyone later on in the night, when everyone had had a few beers. People were usually more relaxed but not on the point of unconsciousness then, so no one would really notice when you chose to sneak off early. When I found out where they were, I was surprised. When I walked in and saw Kerry Weaver, the impenetrable, uptight Dr. Weaver perched uncomfortably on a bar stool inside the gay club, I was dumbfounded. Kerry weaver didn't do social gatherings, by her own admission, and she looked so out of place that I wondered why she was still there. Just seeing her made me ache and boil, the strangest combination. I said my hello's and wound my way to the bar. I ordered a beer and, conscious of her eyes on me, slugged it back. I ordered another. I wanted to scream at her; every part of me willed her to talk to me, even though I wished she wouldn't.

"Abby,"

I turned to face her. My eyes must have been ablaze because she inadvertently leant back.

"Kerry – you like it when I call you Kerry, right? Whatever you're going to say, don't bother. I know exactly how you feel, and that's fine. It was just one night when we were both a bit lost, right? We helped each other out, that's it, right?" I was conscious of keeping my voice down; nurses tended to hear everything.

"I can't talk about this here, Abby." Again she had that small voice, only this time she was trying to be quieter, her eyes subtly darting around. "But it's not like that."

I kept my eyes on hers for a long time. Too long, it seemed, because she fidgeted and looked around.

"We can't just sit here staring at each other." she took a sip of her drink and went to move mine away from me. I held it there, catching her hand around it. Accidentally, or maybe not. She gasped and pulled her hand away.

"What are you doing here, Kerry?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I was hoping to see you."

"Hoping to see me, yet we can't talk." I threw back the rest of my beer, ordered another and a chaser. "You shouldn't assume to take my drink off me, Kerry. You may be my boss, but if that's as far as it goes, people will talk."

Everyone seemed to hit the dance floor at the same time. I threw my jacket on the sofas where a few of the shyer nurses still sat. I knew Kerry was still watching me. I fixed my stare on a blonde goddess who seemed to rule the middle of the dance floor. She was about two foot taller than me with ice blue eyes and long, tight curls. And she could dance. I wound my way through everyone and sidled up in front of her. The women who were trying to dance with her glared at me, as if they were all waiting in line and I'd stolen their turn. I flashed her a half-smile and she studied me for a moment, never breaking her stride. I thought she was going to turn away, and as I spun around to dance away, I felt strong hands around my waist. The blonde pulled me close, her hands close to my crotch, pressing her hips against my back. she spun me away from her then pulled me back so we were facing each other. She bent to my neck and made me shiver when she talked.

"I like the view from every angle."

Over her shoulder I could see Kerry trying not to watch. I pulled the woman even closer to me, and we started to move in earnest, her hips against mine, my thigh between hers, arms in the air, around her neck; twisting; arching.

A couple of times I caught Kerry blushing as we got even closer to each other. I wasn't much of a looker, but I knew I could dance. My whole life had been a dance. I knew the mesmerising effect a woman's body could have, especially when it was glistening and gyrating. I was giving my best efforts, not for the woman I was dancing with, but for the redhead who was watching transfixed.

The dance floor had basically cleared, and I was aware of more pairs of eyes on us. The blonde followed my gaze over to the bar and smiled knowingly, and before I knew it we were on a completely different level, dancing like we were glued to each other, like second skin. I became aware of the music stopping, off clapping and wolf-whistles. I squeezed her hand then stumbled to the bar, ended up next to Kerry; no accident. I ordered a bottle of water, tipped most of it over my head to cool off – I was soaking anyway. I could tell Kerry was trying not to stare – it was the effect I was aiming for, even as I still wished that she would disappear. Eventually I looked at her; her cheeks were quite flushed and she had trouble meeting my eyes.

"You look hot, Kerry."

"So do you." She met my eyes then, hers blazing. "You should put your jacket on, you might atch cols." I noticed her following the beads of water as they trickled down my neck and my tank top. I ran my finger over my chest and made it glisten in the lights. I moved closer to her grateful of the loud music so I could bend to her ear.

"You know, Kerry, last night it was you glistening on my fingers. You were so wet, you would have fallen off that stool."

I heard her gasp and she pulled back from me. a myriad of emotions crossed her face and I wondered which she would settle on, before her eyes shifted to stare over my shoulder. I felt warm hands around my waist.

"Sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if you fancied picking up where we left off?"

My eyes were locked on Kerry's for what seemed like an age. I tried to read her face, but I didn't really know what I was looking for. Then she looked away, anxiously scanning the crowd. Making sure no one was watching us. Watching her. I turned my back on her and slid into the embrace of the woman then lead her back to the dance floor.

We danced slower this time, bodies close together, arms tangled around each other. from the look on Kerry's face, it was just as erotic. The blonde woman leant in closer to my neck.

"Congratulation, I think you've succeeded."

I looked at her in confusion.

"Winding your cute redhead up." She explained.

Suddenly I felt angry with myself. I pulled her face down roughly to meet mine. She was electric. For a moment I forgot about everything, which was the desired effect, but then she spoke.

"Perhaps we should finish this dance somewhere more private."

And it all came flooding back. Kerry; Kerry's hands; Kerry's mouth. I started to back away from this blonde woman until we were barely holding hands.

"I'm sorry." I could hear myself saying, as if I was removed from my body. "I'm sorry, I don't want to use you...i can't...i'm sorry."

I went to grab my jacket, shook my head at the sly winks I got from the nurses. I couldn't look at Kerry. I think she may have made me cry, or something else just as stupid.

* * *

It was raining. Suddenly I was freezing. All I could hear was my blood pounding in my ears. And suddenly, she was behind me, this blonde goddess. She gave me the softest smile, pulled my collar tidy.

"If she breaks your heart, you know where to find me."

I stared after her as she strolled down the street. Numb. I felt numb, if you can feel numbness. I couldn't even appreciate the sight of her body swaying away. Didn't really care that I didn't even know her name. Her words kept floating around my head. When did my heart become Kerry's to break?

**A/N: thanks for reviewing, will update as soon as I type it up. Not sure where it's heading yet, but i have at least a couple more chapters already sketched out...hope u like! xx**


	6. Chapter 6

By the time I'd been in work an hour the next day, I wanted the ground to swallow me up. Somehow, I'd managed to forget all about the other people at the club last night. I'd only had eyes for Kerry. God, Kerry...

The ER was quiet, for a change, so I was the day's entertainment. Wherever I turned, there was a wink, a nudge or some crude comment. Most of them had seen me wrapped around that woman, and those who hadn't had been exaggeratingly told about it. Everyone thought we'd left together, and the only thing I could think about was Kerry bloody Weaver. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; I wanted to hurt her, to make her realise...what, exactly, I still didn't know. Now, looking back, I just felt childish and spiteful. Less than 48 hours ago, all I wanted to do was wrap her in my arms. Now I wanted to hurt her at the same time. Psych would have a field day.

There was an hour left before she came in. It was pointless trying to tell everyone that the night had ended on the dance floor; they'd just think I was covering up. She was bound to hear it at some point. I didn't know if I wanted to see her or not. I felt ashamed, so much that I wasn't sure if I could even look at her. I began to realise why I should have left well alone in the first place. I'd humanized the one person who was beyond human in everyone's minds, even her own. I'd taken away her power and, in the end, abused that, just like she was afraid of. It shouldn't have mattered whether she was there in the morning, or whether there would ever be another night. I had been the one that wanted to comfort her; I pushed her into letting me, and then turned on her when I decided that I didn't want her to not want me.

By the time I'd contemplated all this, I could hear her coming in through the doors, yelling at someone along the way. I couldn't get away from the desk in time. It seemed as though she moved in slow motion towards me.

"Abby." And she brushed straight past. Malucci was hanging around by the phone. I knew, just knew.

"Hey Dr. Weaver. You were there last night, right? Abby's *ahem* action? So tell me, do you think she-"

"Doctor Malucci! What my staff get up to in their spare time is none of my business, and certainly none of yours and I would appreciate it if you would spend the time you're getting paid for actually doing the job described, not pumping everyone for useless information...Go!"

She was definitely pissed. And she didn't look at me for the rest of the day.

* * *

I crept away to the roof when it got quieter. It was a space I'd found that nobody else seemed to bother with. At least I'd never seen anyone up there before. I stopped dead when I saw the figure leaning on the wall, one leg lifted slightly off the floor. I wanted to turn back, even as my legs carried me towards her. I stopped behind her, not wanting to scare her yet reluctant to face her head on.

"I haven't seen you up here before."

She didn't jump, though I could see her body tensing, as if I'd run ice cold fingers down her spine. I wouldn't have blamed her for telling me to get stuffed; I'd been trying to run away from myself all day.

"I don't come up here often."

At least she'd answered, although it didn't exactly leave room for conversation. I could see her shivering now. She didn't have a coat on, only a thin jumper under her lab coat. She shifted so that her weight was resting on her stronger side again.

"Does it hurt much?" The words were out before I could stop myself. I expected Dr. Weaver mode; an icy glare or cutting comment.

"Sometimes a little more than usual." Kerry voice.

I didn't think, didn't give myself time to. I slipped my hands underneath her lab coat until I found her shoulders. I felt her tense, but as I moved my fingers, kneading her taught muscles, she softened. I worked my way lower, up and down, releasing some of the tension her back held. I assumed it was because of her crutch – her muscles were knotted tighter than a Navy rope. Her whole body straightened and tensed again as one of my hands slid over her hip.

"Abby." I couldn't read her tone. She turned to face me and I made myself meet her eyes. They were glistening.

"I don't want to hurt you, Kerry."

"You weren't."

She averted her eyes then and we both knew what I was trying to discuss. I took her hands in mine. They were so cold, almost blue. I tried to warm them. She let me.

"I didn't take her home, Kerry. I didn't want to dance with her anymore. All I could think about was you."

I heard her gasp slightly, saw her breath exhale quicker. I carried on quickly, my words all a rush.

"I wanted to forget about you, but you were always there. Not just physically, but in my head. Seeing you, knowing that you didn't want to...whatever it is we were doing...it just made me remember, when all I should do is forget."

I hoped she understood because I couldn't really find the words to explain further.

"I am your boss, Abby. You're a med student. This...this can't happen."

I tried to stop myself from visibly deflating.

"But...I...I'm glad you were there."

I nodded.

"But I still have to try and forget."

Her eyes were anywhere but on me. She looked as though she was about to run.

"But I don't want you to forget." Quiet, whispered, unsure. "I stayed watching you last night, because I didn't want you to forget, even though I told myself you had to."

I could feel her leaning towards me. I let go of her hands, waiting to pull her towards me.

Her pager made us both jump. We giggled like school kids, the moment of whatever it was, gone.

_I don't want you to forget..._

* * *

The ensuing trauma – family versus truck – kept us all busy for over an hour, and there was an endless stream of minor injuries waiting, as usual. By the time I clocked off, the only other contact I'd had with Kerry was to pass her an intubation kit.

I stood outside and lit my cigarette, waiting, perhaps, although more hoping and wishing. This time, I was so intent on my worrying that I didn't hear her come to stand beside me. She wouldn't be finishing for another two hours, she said. Long enough for me to reason with myself that it was best all round if I didn't see her personally again. Not because I didn't want to, but because I knew that it was what she was going to tell me anyway. I thought I'd try to make it easy for her.

I met her at her car, and we rode in silence back to her house. It felt so familiar, as if we did it every day, had done since forever.

In her house, she led me straight through to the living room, still wearing our hats, coats and scarves. She was shifting and shuffling. I didn't know what she was thinking, but it was as if she was wary of me, like the first time I'd slipped beneath her mask and had to work so hard to convince her I was real. I cupped her rosy cheeks in my hands, stroking with my thumbs.

"I never want to hurt you, Kerry."

She moved her head and brought her lips to my palm.

"I can't be the person you want me to be, Abby."

I smiled softly and pulled her gently towards me. I pulled her hat and coat off and let them slide to the floor. I buried my face in her hair, planted a kiss on her head.

"If I didn't like the person that you already are, then I wouldn't be here, would I?"

"What going on here between us?" mumbled into my shoulder as she nuzzled her lips against my neck.

"I don't know." I sighed, trying to concentrate as her hands wound under my coat and jumper. "But we've got time to figure it out."

* * *

We were slower this time. Sweeter. Kisses seemed more intimate. Her hands trailed over my body, caressing every inch, as if they were memorising every ridge and every response they produced. Every time she touched me, I didn't think I could feel more aroused, until her next touch, and more...more until I thought I would burst.

"Kerry...please." I didn't know what I was begging for; more teasing or release. She slid her fingers inside me, and I had to grab her wrist to still them, stop myself from coming right then. She stayed there for what seemed like a lifetime, pinning me with her eyes. She didn't need to speak; her eyes were translating everything she wanted. She started moving her fingers slowly until my hips were bucking. She moved faster. She shifted, and I let out a loud moan as I felt her wetness grinding into my thigh. The feeling was so erotic that I spread my legs wider, the throbbing becoming almost unbearable. She slid three fingers inside me, shifted so that she could kiss me, the position pushing the palm of her hand full force into my clit. I arched off the bed, all I could hear was blood rushing in my ears. I felt wetness gushing over my thigh, felt her muscles tighten, arching into me, crying out until we ended up sprawled God-knows-where on the bed, both of us panting; muscles jerking; sweat cooling. Smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

I was afraid to open my eyes. We'd still made no promises, and I was so afraid that she'd be gone. I heard a soft shuffle, and my eyes flew open. My heart missed a beat when I saw her laying next to me, her head on her arm making her lips adorably squashed. I noticed her shiver and had to acknowledge the cold seeping into my own bones. I snuggled down into the mattress and pulled up the duvet so it rested under our chins. I lightly stroked her back under the covers, and she sighed and shifted. I thought I heard her breathe my name, but it was probably a wishful thought. I held my breath as her eyes fluttered open. My hand stilled. Even after last night, I was hopeful but not optimistic about Kerry wanting me around. I was already starting to withdraw from her, when she caught my eyes. She smiled, but I could tell she was trying to be as guarded as I was.

"Morning," she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. She pulled herself to a sitting position, and grabbed the falling sheet to cover her body. It dawned on me then that she was probably thinking the same as me; had probably woken up wondering if I would still be there; wondering what it meant if I wasn't. Or if I was. I put my hand over hers, stroked her fingers until she relaxed her grip on the sheet slightly.

"Don't. Please."  
I wished I wasn't so useless with words. I could see the doubt and fear creeping into her eyes, and I wished desperately that it wouldn't turn into regret, but I really didn't know what to say to her. I pulled her closer to me, and breathed in her hair.

"Abby." I loved the way she said my name in that breathy, almost girlish voice. "I don't know how we've ended up like this, but there's just something about you that I..."  
I lifted her chin and kissed her softly, giving her a chance to pull away, dreading the moment that she would. I didn't want to talk anymore; talking meant analysing, and I hadn't ever been much good at that, except in hindsight. Over only a few days, the woman that I had in my arms had become my focus, someone who I knew I was meant to have in my life. I couldn't look into the why's and what if's. They spoil everything eventually anyway.  
"Kerry, just kiss me."

* * *

Five days had passed and I hadn't seen nor heard from Kerry. We were working different shifts, and she had said that she would be swamped, but I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. For some reason, I shied away from calling her, probably fearing rejection, though I convinced myself that I didn't want to appear to be nagging her.  
On the first shift that we were scheduled to work together, I had been smiling since I walked through the doors. I hadn't realised how serious I always looked until even the security guy remarked on my happy face. I wasn't consciously hanging around the admit area waiting for Kerry, but every time the doors whooshed my head snapped up.  
When she finally came through the doors, I had to bury my face in a chart until I could control what I was sure was a ridiculously goofy look. By the time I looked up, she was behind the desk, exuding Dr. Weaverness.

"Dr. Weaver." I managed to say her name as a greeting and mostly managed to keep it devoid of any of the desire I felt. She glanced at me over her glasses, and though I noticed a subtle blush paint her cheeks, she gave nothing out of the ordinary.

"Abby."

Then she was gone.

* * *

As the day progressed, a feeling of unease settled over me. On the rare occasion that we had to discuss a patient, I noticed that she was especially careful to keep a distance between us, and she practically flinched every time another person walked past. I understood her fears, but the more the day wore on, the angrier I became. I started to think she expected me to pounce on her and rip her clothes off in the middle of chairs! I was in the lounge, had just finished my shift, when the door opened. I'd become used to feeling her presence before actually seeing her by now, but I was still careful to actually face her before acknowledging her presence.

"Abby, um, I get off in an hour. I was just thinking-"

The words _I'd like that _were almost out of my mouth when the door flew open again. Even though we were barely close enough to stretch arms out and touch fingers, she spun away from me, running a hand through her hair. I doubt if Kovac would have even noticed us in the room if she hadn't made her discomfort so damn obvious. I struggled to suppress my eye roll as she proceeded to waffle on about some long-forgotten patient and Kovac looked more and more confused as his eyes flicked to me. I shrugged, grabbed my coat and headed for the door.

"Night, Dr. Kovac. Dr. Weaver."

I knew she wouldn't try to stop me, or follow me; nevertheless I felt a surge of depression rising from my gut. Her distracted "night Abby" mingled with Kovac's, and I knew that my smile as I left the building was half as bright and twice as rueful as when I walked in.

* * *

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while...I know where I want it to go, but I'm too impatient to actually write the bits in between! Shall have to make more effort, whilst also trying to pay attention to real life! Hope you like x**


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